


Had 2

by ullfloattoo



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fuck Boy Billy, M/M, Sexting, gross billy, manipulative billy, what i live for, why am i always writing about nudes.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 19:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ullfloattoo/pseuds/ullfloattoo
Summary: Billy replayed your Snap!Billy took a screenshot!Steve’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach.





	Had 2

**Author's Note:**

> i really hope the conversation between the two of them isnt confusing. also their display names are inconsistent because billy would totally just make his name "Billy" and Steve would have to be "Steve Harrington" cause hes so uptight and my prissy princess.

It’s a trend for them. Billy knows his schedule by now. Mondays till close, Wednesday and Friday till nine thirty. It’s usually _sweet_ , what they talk about, Billy sending a picture of his neighbors house, claiming that it’s haunted, Steve sending a minute long video of him attempting to make pancakes. _I’m the best cook_ , the caption reads. 

Every once in awhile, it isn't though. 

Like this once, Steve sent a random picture of a popsicle box,his midnight snack, completely innocent until Billy responded with _Deep throat it_. 

That shit makes him squirm.

Right on cue, of course he does. Sent him a picture with the popsicle as far down as he could push it. It’s hot. Neither of them can pinpoint when _this_ all started. But they aren't complaining. Billy’ll snap back saying, _Can't wait to paint your face one day,_ and head to bed like nothing ever happened. 

And fuck him if he doesn't feel like a total whore, fulfilling Billy’s every fucked up demand, acting like they don't even see one another at school or at practice. Steve tends to linger after every game, take an extra long shower, filled with the hope that Billy will join him, will press his face into the tile and whisper _Princess_ along his neck and mean it, not like he jokingly calls him over facetime when it’s too late for anyone else to hear him. 

It’s Friday, Steve got let out late, has been ignoring Billy’s snaps on purpose, ‘cause he’s got a feeling it’s one of _those_ nights again and Steve wants to bask in it all alone.

He opens the red icon, scrolls past the video he got from Nancy two minutes ago, ignores the chat he got from Byers and doesn't even check in to the snap group chat he’s in with the kids. Heads straight for Billy’s, sent four hours ago. 

It’s him, in the mirror, biceps flexing, wearing a low scoop wife beater. It’s so trashy, his walls are half painted, can see the toothpaste stains that smudge the mirror. His shirt’s borderline transparent. Can make out every rivet of every cut muscle, stares too long at his pert nipples. Mouthwatering. He quickly sends a picture of his face after removing his ridiculous sailor hat, _Lookin’ good_ , he types. 

Billy replies not even a minute later. It’s just a black screen, reads, in red marker scribble, _U HAVE A SMALL DICK._

The first thing that Steve notes is that Billy’s handwriting is, well, impeccable. 

Steve sends a picture of his confused face, _What?_

He tries to rack his brain, doesn't think it's impossible for Billy to have seen his dick before. He’s taken plenty of showers. Plenty of showers for Billy to pounce on him. But he never showed. Just thinks it’s strange for him to be called small, of all things. Hell, that’s his prized possession.

Billy sends a photo of the side of his face, with a message, this time typed, _ur dick is small. & circumsized like Tommy’s. _

Quickly, slightly offended, he says, _No, it isn't._

A photo of the ceiling, reading, _Bet. That boyf of urs sent me a vid of him jerkin it last week, angel. Wasn't pretty._

There’s a million things he could say now. Like, _He isnt my boyfriend._ Or, _I’m not sending you a picture of my cock._ But that would ruin the fun. He knows where this is going. He’s hard, always is. His dick is trained at this point to chub up when he sees Bill’s notifications.

Steve leaves him on open for a while. Runs up to his room and locks the door, as if his parents would ever dare going in to it without knocking, as if they’re even awake right now. 

With a leap of faith, he shoves his pants down. He’s hard. He knows what Billy wants. This is a long time coming. This is the next step. He tries to rub off the precome from his tip before snapping a photo. Thinks that if his cock is leaking he’ll look too desperate for it. But it won't go away. Just beads up again with every swipe of his thumb along the head. 

Steve finally hits send, after a good two minutes of staring at his photograph, pondering if he should actually send it. He’s in his uniform still. Can see the stripes and telling colors pooled at the bottom of his feet. He’s sent his fair share of dick pics when he was younger, younger than he would like to admit to girls in turn for a peak at their training bra. Steve was different, a gross, entitled kid who thought the world revolved around him because he was top shit on the team. He felt like _Billy_. It was stupid. And they probably felt just as nervous as Steve is right now. Just staring into oblivion until his eyes water. 

Steve places his phone on his desk, goes downstairs for a drink of water. He’s the only one awake right now. He’s avoiding his phone. Avoiding the pending notification of Billy’s next snap. His stomach churns with a cocktail of excitement and guilt. It’s lovely. Wonders what hot shit Billy will say back, wonders if he will get a video in return. Fuck, he prays that Billy asks for his addy, so he can scoop them and finally fuck in his car like he has literally been dreaming of. It's none of that, of course when he gets back upstairs. He grimaces staring at the blue light glowing before him.

_Snapchat_

_Billy replayed your Snap!_

_Snapchat_

_Billy took a screenshot!_

Steve’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. Visions of walking into the locker room with the entire team having his dick pic on their phones flash before his eyes. His hands go clammy and self deprecating thoughts take over. He’s thinking, You are such a dumbass. Thinking why he ever decided to trust _Billy Hargrove_ , of all people, ever. 

Steve sits up in his bed, slides over to the empty chat and begins typing, deleting what he just typed, and typing again. He sees the fucker’s _Bitmoji_ that, now that he’s thinking about it, looks nothing fucking like him, pop up. Signifying that he’s awaiting Steve’s freak out. Eventually he just settles on, _What the fuck Billy._ Period included, cause he’s _pissed_. 

Billy

_Dunno what yr talking bout_

There’s an awful sickness creeping up Steve’s throat. The inconsistent grammar. The fact that Billy’s really trying to play him for a _fool_ right now. The fact that Steve’s gotta get up bright and early and see his ass in about six hours from now. 

Steve Harrington

_Why’d you screenshot that._

Billy

_I didn’t ss_

It takes him a hot second to respond to that. Has to process that he definitely was not dreaming when he saw that notification. Scrolls up in the chat log to double check, that yeah, the asshole is trying to hoodwink him. 

Steve leaves him on read reluctantly. Pulls the covers up to his chin and pouts, ‘cause Steve Harrington was actually having fun for once. Having fun with a guy he’s been kind of gawking over for months now, imagining this dude fucking his face to tears in the shower when nobody’s home. Like he promised a few drunken nights ago. 

His phone vibrates and lights up.

_Snapchat_

_Billy is typing…_

_Snapchat_

_From Billy_

Steve unlocks his phone.

Billy

_Dude I seriously didnt ss that y would I do that_

Steve leaves him on read. Throws his phone into his sheets and gives a heartfelt scream into the pillows. He’s done with him. For real. All of this shit has come to an end and his dick is soft, now. His phone buzzes, once, twice. Steve finds him scrambling. They’re from Billy.

Billy

_Steve_

Billy

_Steve talk to me_

And fuck, Billy knows just what to say. Uses his first name. It’s borderline _sweet_. Don’t get him wrong, Steve knows that Billy’s been around the block, knows his way with words, and with the ladies. Probably how he got Tommy’s dick video. Heard he has Tina’s tits too. Got them from buttering them up. 

But the sad thing is that Steve doesn't really _care_. Finds it hot, even. He types a response.

Steve Harrington

_I’m not dumb_

Billy

_Babe I swear_

_U can search my camera roll tomrrw_

He keeps typing.

Billy

_My private album 2_

_Ok mayb not my private_

_Kinda personal_

His cheeks burn, _Fuck. Off._

Billy’s typing comes to a halt. Steve steps away from the screen, paces his room, interlacing his fingers into his hair. Call him vain, call him a priss, but his image is going to be absolutely abolished my eight am sharp. The familiar sound envelops the room, signifying Billy’s response.

Billy

_Ok_

And _fuck_ , if that didn't just backfire. Steve wants anything but Billy to fuck off. Wants Billy to f _uck on_ , if anything. Just lets not tell the whole of Hawkins. Can picture another scenario, lunch rush at scoops and Billy passing out flyers to customers in line, “Half off if you use this coupon, show it to the angel behind the counter” Billy will say, flashing his pearly whites, gesturing to Steve. Steve’s dick is plastered all over it, decorated with ironic emojis. Steve races to respond back.

Steve Harrington

_You know what._

_I know you have it._

_But I’m fucking trusting you._

He says the last bit because maybe if he types it out it’ll come true. He wants to believe Billy won't spread that shit like wildfire, he really does. If he doesn't make himself trust Billy, he won't be able to sleep at night. Even if it's just pretend. He’ll stare up into the darkness of his room with a blush high on his face, thinking of the most embarrassing shit he’s ever done, sending Billy nudes at the top of his list. 

Billy

_U better <3 _

_We good Princess????_

Steve Harrington

_Ya_

He types that without even thinking twice. He’s weak. Just wants to go back to normal, back to Billy flexing his abs, being a total tool. Steve eating that shit up. _It works, dammit_. He’s total trash. Steve’s getting used, and he knows it. Fucking likes it. Revels in it. Kind of likes the fact that Billy has this over him. He feels himself start to chub up again reading Billy's latest messages. 

Billy 

_How’d u know that’s just what I wanted. sweetheart_

_Makes u feel any better_

_Yr dick is 30x better than Tommy Boy’s_

Steve Harrington

_Damn straight._

Billy

_Good ur awake_

_u still hard bb?_

He blushes. Fists his dick. 

Steve Harrington

_'Course_

His phone vibrates violently with a call from Billy. He lets it ring for a little before answering.

"Hello?" He answers in a breathy, urgent tone. 

"Baby," he purrs, "I'm gonna fuck you till you can't dribble for regional's."

And, god, that is _gross_ , so cheesy. But again, it works, he's so hard. Steve can picture him now. Pitch black room, chain dangling between his pecs, fist pumping his cock feverishly, talking low so Neil doesn't hear. Steve doesn't even want to imagine what the guy would do if he walked in to find his son whispering about how he wants to force feed town princess Harrington his come. 

"Fuck, Billy," Steve pants.

"That's it, Harrington. Go slow for me, know this is hard-" Billy breaks off for a moment, "Baby, can you do something for me?"

"Anything," He blurts.

"Bet you look so hot right now. Need you to take a video. Just to keep between you and me, promise."

**Author's Note:**

> may or may not be based off of very real life events.
> 
> hiharrington on tumblr


End file.
